


To the end of the line

by Jimmybean



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Amnesia, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brain Damage, Dammit Jim, Feels, Heavy Angst, Hurt Jim, Jim Returns, Jim is a Little Shit, M/M, Multi, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Poor Life Choices, Richard Brook is Jim Moriarty, Sort of anyway, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 05:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6841234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jimmybean/pseuds/Jimmybean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim survives shooting himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To the end of the line

It was when Jim was standing on the roof of Barts hospital that he realized his love for Moran. He was helpless to do anything about it. The criminal had gone onto this roof, thinking he had nothing to lose, that he was prepared to die, and that was not quite the case.

"Fuck!" he shouted, but no one could hear it over the repeating staying alive ringtone that was playing. Sebastian was calling. His tiger, his lover, his friend, his whole damn world. And he was Sebastian's world. What would happen to his faithful satellite when he was gone? Panic, for the first time in a long time, raced through his veins.

He found himself saying every practiced line with Sherlock, as he typed a series of code to his twin. Jim Moriarty had once been Richard brook, but now Richard brook would become Jim Moriarty. If his brother was as good as Jim thought, not even Sebastian would notice. He was giving his satellite a planet to orbit. Somehow, the thought comforted him as he brought the gun to his lips.

  
  


It’s when Jim wakes up that he realizes something has gone horribly wrong. One eye cracks open expiermentally and he tries to swallow around the tube down his throat. He’s in a hideaway apartment, one he bought just because he could.

 

Footsteps. Jim’s head lifted just an inch, and that’s when he realized the reason he couldn’t open his other eye was because it was taped shut. What the fuck… he wondered to himself. “If you stop moving, I’ll try to explain it to you.” his voice, though it wasn’t his. Richard, then.

 

At Jim’s look, Richard smiled timidly. “Sorry. I got used to being you, Jimmy. It’s been almost five months.” He grabbed a hand mirror and Jim could see that his hair was a bit longer than he’d like, but his jaw was clean shaven luckily. His other eye was definitely bandaged over for some reason. He tried to lift his arm to grab the mirror and growled in frustration when his hand feebly moved. His arm felt so fucking heavy.

 

“Calm down. You’ve been in bed for five months, remember? I’ll fetch a doctor.” his twin said, and peeked his head out of the room, roughly barking an order at whoever was in the hallway. A doctor scuttled in. “Get the tube out of his throat.” Richard drawled.

 

Once the doctor had removed it, Jim tried to talk. Nothing came out and he let out a frustrated noise. He tried again, tears coming to his eyes. “Mr. Moriarty…” The doctor began nervously. “You severely damaged your brain. Don’t be frustrated you can’t do anything yet. You’re lucky you’re alive.”

 

I don’t feel lucky, Jim screamed internally. He tried doing maths in his head, shaking when he couldn’t even think of an equation to solve. “You injured your parietal and occipital lobe. You’ll have difficulty with a number of things, but speech and movement should be coming back to you with time. The mutism is more due to you being traumatized, and the movement is due to you being in a bed for five months. You will see improvement. Jim.”  
  
“Screw your improvement!” Jim rasped out angrily. He got the pleasure of seeing the stupid fucks eyes widen in surprise. “Now, Richie darling. Get me in a wheelchair and tell me how my brain was injured, and why you’re acting like me.” Jim demanded sweetly. His throat hurt from talking already, but at least the anger had made him able to. Last the criminal remembered, Richard was in a frump, hating him because he found out what Jim’s day job was. But now his brother was totally okay with it?

 

“You mean...you don’t remember the final problem? Sherlock Holmes, the detective?” Richard asked gently, laying a hand on his shoulder. Jim felt, in that moment that something was off.

 

“Should I?” Jim asked blithely, glaring at him. His brother sighed quietly.

 

“D-Do you remember Sebastian Moran?” he asked, his voice even softer.  
  
“That new sniper I hired last week?” A distressed noise came from his twin.

 

“So that’s one of your most recent memories? Hiring Sebastian?” Richard got a wheelchair, and hoisted Jim into it.

 

“Yes. He’s not important, can you please tell me what the fuck happened?!” Jim snapped and in a single instance he had Richard by the throat, since his twin was still bended over.

 

“You shot your own damn brains out Jim! That’s what the fuck happened!” Richard screeched, pulling himself away. Jim’s eyes widened and he pressed his hands into his thighs, breath jerky. He’d actually try to kill himself? What would make him so passionate, so distressed, so fucking idiotic?  
  
“Jim.” Richard began again.”you got into a relationship of a sort with Moran. You got obsessed with a brilliant detective who solved your crimes, and apparently the only solution you saw was to kill yourself so he would, but he faked it.” He had never heard his brother so hateful.

 

“So I lost.” Jim said dryly, looking like he had put a lemon slice into his mouth.

 

“That’s all your fucking obsessed with isn’t it?” Richard asked in disgust. “Well you had me pretend to be you, and everyone but one person believed me.”  
  
“Who was that person? You could just kill him.” Jim’s interest was peaked, as he heard footsteps coming towards the door.

 

“Sebastian Moran.” A rough, not Richard voice uttered. He looked up and felt his heart stutter in its chest, even though it was just his employee. There was still an inkling of feeling though - he felt like...he knew him. That was terrifying.

 

“You’re fired. Effective immideately.” Jim said bluntly. He couldn’t have a weakness hanging around.  
  
“What the fuck Jim-” Sebastian seethed and lunged, but Richard got in front of him. “

 

“Jim’s out of his mind right now. Don’t listen to him. Okay?” Richard asked softly. “As he ordered, I’m in charge. And I’m not firing you.” He turned to Jim, seeing the frightened expression on his twin’s face. “But perhaps you might leave for a while.”  
  
“Jim.” Sebastian pleaded, pushing past Richard. “Don’t you remember me eating your ass out, rough stubble against those soft cheeks? Me killing your father? Dammit, we fucked in alley’s, we fucked after kills, blood smearing everywhere and I even- I even made love to you the night before it happened. Dammit Jim. you’re not supposed to forget me-” Sebastian’s voice cracked as he grabbed the criminal, sobs coming out of the man.  
  
“Get off me.” Jim said in a strained voice, obviously very uncomfortable with the display of emotion.  
  
“Jim-” Sebastian pleaded but was cut off by the scream that came from the irish man.  
  
“Get the fuck off me!” He could probably be heard several apartments away.

Sebastian had seen this side of Jim before, so he quickly let go, rubbing his eyes. “Jim, ‘m so-”

“And now get the fuck out and never see me again, or I will kill you.”


End file.
